


A Day in the Life

by Dirtcore Dreams (NakedEye)



Series: Upon Request [9]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Addiction, Cock Slut, Come Eating, Come Inflation, Come Marking, Come Swallowing, Comeplay, Eproctophilia, Farting, Foot Fetish, Implied Mpreg, Implied/Referenced Incest, Interspecies Sex, Knotting, M/M, Raunch, Scents & Smells, Sex Addiction, Slut Stiles Stilinski, Watersports, Xenophilia, come addiction, musk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-09-29
Packaged: 2019-07-18 21:25:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16127051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NakedEye/pseuds/Dirtcore%20Dreams
Summary: Everyone treats wolves as second class citizens, thinks them filthy for their unkempt ways. Stiles gets too close and gets addicted to their musk, their cum. These days he lives happily as an addict, being passed from one mutt to another to get his fix throughout the day.





	A Day in the Life

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was requested over at my tumblr, (drivenbyadevilshunger). If you'd like to leave me a prompt of your own, hit up my inbox!

Stiles’ day had a rhythm, a regular cadence. He needed the regularity, the strict timings and devoted regulars. With the structure, he thought himself to live a pretty normal life, considering. Most junkies with a habit as serious as his couldn’t make it to school, volunteer after, keep money in their pockets and their family in their life. But he had a system.

Derek spent the night with him. Poor wolf was almost feral when they found each other. Stiles was stumbling through the woods, jonesing, shaking. Derek had lost his family, was living life shifted. “I got you, big guy. Look at you, so fucking beautiful. Got just what I need, don’tcha? Take a big, hot piss for me, baby. I’ll bring you in after, I promise.” Stiles fell on him in animal form and drained his nuts dry. But he kept his promise.

Derek loped around their house these days, sometimes a wolf, sometimes a furry teenager with a heavy, dangling sheathe. It made the sheriff uncomfortable to stare at a naked teen boy-dog-boy, but it assured Stiles didn’t get the sweats through the night. Derek’s earthy, swampy stink and regular deposits of watery cum kept him all topped up at home.

When he left the house, he had feedings, scheduled with boys that shot him cocky, sharp toothed grins every time he clutched at the front of their shirts. Isaac had him in the mornings, slipped him a dirty, sweaty sock for Stiles to suck and huff through classes before they made it to lunch where he could get the real thing.

Such long, slender, smelly feet. And a dog-cock to match. Pale, almost chalky, flesh. Thin enough to be easy to swallow, long enough the load went straight down his gullet. Isaac’s pubes were as blonde and curly and soft as the hair on his head and Stiles loved to nuzzle in them beneath the bleachers, lips locked behind his knot while the wolf tore apart white bread sandwiches and ate them in gulps.

They parted ways there and Jackson took over. He was such a shit about it. He actually kept himself clean, for a wolf. Washed and deodorized and with tailored clothing. But that was just the act, the game. “Such a little bitch, aren’t ya? Just a pretty slut for doggy filth. You’re disgusting, you only get what addicts deserve.” Stiles let his head be pinned against walls, on benches, in the leather of Jackson’s sports car so he could get his fix.

Premium, immaculate denim was pressed to his upturned nose and he whined as he waited. Because Jackson fed him farts. Jackson took him to places where they could __just__ get caught and made Stiles writhe in desperation for his foul gas. The pretty, perfect boy lived for it, tending to the little kernel of filth he hid him himself and watered with Stiles’ need. “Want it bare, don’t ya? Need it straight from the source.”

Despite his domineering attitude, Jackson was a bottom, through and through. His tail wagged out of control as Stiles at his spluttering ass out, biting at the freckled cheeks and grooming the blonde fur as he begged for more blistering burbles. The only way to get him to spill was to finger fuck him sloppy, bouncing him on spread fingers until his moans cracked and he gushed onto the sidewalk. He loved watching Stiles lick it up, hands and knees scrabbling as he tried to get the taste as pure, unsullied.

He got hotboxed during his ride to the police station, kept docile so he was calm for his volunteering hours. It was mostly sorting paperwork, but occasionally things more interesting, important. And if he got antsy, well his father had just signed the BHPD up for a new diversity program meant to foster good relations. Parrish was their first doggy deputy and that pretty pup was all too happy to let Stiles sit in the gym with him while he worked out.

Stiles was underage, but wolves didn’t really believe in those kinds of concepts. Hell, half of them were inbred and planned to pass the favor on. So everyone did their best to turn a blind eye when Parrish started doing naked cross fit, dripping ball sweat into Stiles’ mouth and smearing the boy over every inch of his slick skin.

The deputy’s cum was still canine-watery, but more silken and layered than any Stiles had otherwise. He was mature, a real man. His spunk was made to breed and Stiles loved having it splash across his body, soak into his tongue and mat his hair. Parrish found it just as pleasurable, licking and drooling into his mouth to chase his own taste, since Stiles wouldn’t let him lick his own cock clean like usual.

With the day’s rank coating him, by the time Stiles got home Derek was scratching at the door and yelping. He got so aggressive with all the other males on him. Immediately tackled Stiles to the ground and washed him with heady, hot piss to take back his claim. They were attached at the hip from there, Derek humping his leg throughout dinner, Stiles lifting his tail to eat his ass and prep him for tonight while he did homework and watched movies.

When they were naked in bed together, Derek snuffling and growling and spreading Stiles’ thighs, he’d just laugh, ruffle the wolf’s hair. “It’s alright, big guy. Go ahead and make me yours.” Derek’s knot was fucking heaven. Bulbous and thick and backed by the stamina to keep them tied through at least three ruts. Everything else throughout the day were just hits, little bumps off the back of his palm.

This was the kind of shit you cooked in spoons. Stiles’ eyes rolled back in his head as Derek panted above him, biting and drooling and sweating. His ass got sloppy and thighs stuck to Derek’s and his fucking stomach swole with the sheer volume of spunk filling his guts. Afterward Derek would nuzzle at it, watch it slosh, grin when he could make Stiles cum again just by playing with it.

Stiles hoped one day it would take, that his addiction might be enough to actually change his body, make him one with the animals he loved. What a gift it would be, to make a son that would one day pup him with another. He didn’t know if it was possible, but he’d be damned if he wasn’t gonna try.


End file.
